


No More Dreaming of the Dead

by Melodious329



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2011-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodious329/pseuds/Melodious329
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after the episode Dead End in Season Two.  Lindsey McDonald was supposed to have left LA after destroying Wolfram & Hart’s body parts lab, but Angel finds him a few weeks later in a demon’s lair.  Convinced that the evil law firm is still after Lindsey, Angel takes him back to the hotel while they figure out what to do.  But Lindsey isn’t recovering, and Cordelia’s still pissed at Angel for firing them, and Wesley’s constantly pissed at Angel for usurping his authority.  Maybe all they need is to relearn some trust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No More Dreaming of the Dead

[](http://s567.photobucket.com/albums/ss114/Melodious329/?action=view&current=j2kanebigbang.jpg)

Angel bursts into the dank cave, hot on the heels of the giant furry demon that had been guarding the entrance. Turning around in a circle, he doesn’t see it though he can see the hallway dead-ending in a solid rock on both sides. But that’s when he notices that on side of the hallway isn’t solid rock, it’s a line of small closed archways all along one side of the cave’s rock wall. They look like cells.

With nowhere else to look, Angel turns to the first one on his left. But it’s not closed with a door. It seems to just be a rock, like a boulder that has been rolled to block the hole, rolled from the inside.

Angel puts his right foot forward as he places his hands on the rock, pushing until the rock begins to roll back inside, dust falling into his short dark hair. As the rock rolls away though, all that he can see is a cavern surrounded by more rock, no windows, no doors, no way for anyone to get out.

Taking a step forward, Angel is unexpected knocked aside. But not by the demon he’s chasing. He doesn’t bother to give chase as he watches a short lizard-looking demon spring past him towards the exit. Instead, Angel steps inside the cell, but there’s nothing more to see in there. And he knows that the lizard demon that raced out could not possibly have pushed the rock to block the cell’s entrance. So what did? And how did it get out?

Frustrated, Angel pushes at the rock blocking the entrance of the next cell. But as soon as the rock gives a fraction, an awful stench seeps out of the cavern. It’s a stench that Angel knows well, the stench of death. The rock gives way to show him what looks to be a human male, thin and naked and very dead, lying on the stone ground to the left of the entrance.

There are only two cells left in which the furry demon might be hiding. The next one contains a dead demon, this one as big as the one guarding the entrance but instead of fur, it is more humanoid but bald and without any eyes. Finally, Angel rolls away the last cell, expecting either the furry demon he has been chasing or the stench of death again, but he doesn’t find either.

Instead, Angel steps inside to find a man curled up against the right edge of the rock wall, naked and bruised and dirty. But Angel can hear the beat of his heart when he listens. The man doesn’t stir as Angel kneels down beside him, thinking that there’s something familiar in the short spiky brown hair…

Lindsey. No matter the dirt on his face, Angel can easily recognize the ex-Wolfram & Hart lawyer and a tangle of emotions rushes up his throat from his chest.

But right now, all Angel can see is how small and helpless Lindsey looks lying there. Besides he’s had an epiphany since he locked Lindsey in with Darla and Dru, and he thought that they had an understanding when Lindsey left LA.

Lindsey doesn’t wake even when Angel turns him over, assessing his injuries. Angel would bet anything that this has to do with his old nemesis Wolfram & Hart. And if he’s right, the lawfirm is unlikely to just let Lindsey escape.

Blunt, practiced fingers sweep over soft skin cooled from the stone floor. It’ll be safer if Lindsey doesn’t need a hospital, and it seems Lindsey only has extensive bruising. His ribs don’t feel broken, and the few wounds don’t seem infected. The only safe place is the hotel, at least until they can find the furry demon.

Angel is just lifting Lindsey from the ground when Wesley and Gunn appear outside the cell.

“What’s happenin’ in here?” Gunn asks at the same time that Wesley starts to speak.

“A Synoid demon ran out of here, but he didn’t seem a threat. Where is the…?”

Wesley trails off into stunned silence and Angel knows why. Wesley’s dark eyes are fixed on Lindsey’s face where it lolls from Angel’s shoulder.

“Is that…?” Wesley starts in a soft voice.

“Yo, what’s lawyer-boy doin’ down here?” Gunn asks casually, hefting his crossbow over one shoulder. “I guess ol’ Wolfram and Hart didn’t take too kindly to his leavin’.”

Angel frowns at the insinuation, but it’s not untrue. The question is what to do about it.

“We have to take him to the hotel,” Angel says, taking the other two humans by surprise. “Wolfram and Hart will go after him again. The demon guard escaped me.”

“Wait,” Gunn says slowly. “We gonna help him? What about all the times he…”

“We don’t choose who deserves to be saved,” Angel interrupts, avoiding any mention of what he also did to Lindsey and those other lawyers.

“Yes,” Wesley cuts in, taking off his glasses and putting them back on before he continues. “Lindsey left the firm for a second chance. And that demon is a threat to everyone, not just evil lawyers I’m betting. No, you’re right, Angel. We should take him to the hotel, see what he knows.”

Angel smiles, unable to stop the rush of pride that Wesley’s agreement gives him. That decided, he continues carrying Lindsey down the hallway, ducking and turning to the side so that they both fit through the doorway. It’s not til they get outside that he remembers Lindsey’s naked.

It’s the middle of the night and this is not a populous area, but LA is never deserted no matter the time so Angel tucks Lindsey’s smaller body closer in order to hide him. It feels strange to carry Lindsey like this, Lindsey’s face resting against his chest, Lindsey who worked tirelessly not to be seen as weak. Carrying Lindsey across the street, Angel lowers him into the backseat before slipping off his long coat.

Still Lindsey stays unconscious, his head lolling to the side of the seat cushion, his legs falling to one side. Angel is starting to wonder whether Lindsey really does need a hospital when Wesley comes up, surprising him.

“Yes, the coat could have been used sooner,” the British man chastises mildly.

Frowning, Angel just makes sure to tuck the coat securely underneath the injured man before climbing into the driver’s side.

But his mind isn’t focused on the road as he drives them back to the hotel. Angel can’t keep himself from constantly glancing in the rearview mirror to see Lindsey’s slack face, full lips just barely parted with his breath and hair falling over his forehead. He wants to see the slight rise of Lindsey’s chest indicating the man’s still alive. The idea of Lindsey dead just seems wrong to him, wrong for Lindsey to die from some nameless demon in some dark hole in the ground, to die from anything completely unrelated to Angel.

He doesn’t really realize he’s doing it til Wesley speaks. “He looks a lot different without the suit, a lot younger than I would have thought.”

“Wolf in sheep’s clothing, huh?” Angel says jokingly, but his smile falls when it’s clear that Wesley isn’t joining in on the joke.

“Perhaps not,” Wesley says in that tone of voice that’s so familiar and so irritating, that tone of voice that seems to both be a sarcastic dig at Angel and a thoughtful comment to be pondered over.

Angel keeps his eyes firmly on the road for the rest of the trip.

Carrying the now black-coat clad Lindsey into through the hotel lobby, Angel forgot about Cordy who had stayed behind. But as soon as she sees Angel carrying someone wearing Angel’s coat, she’s racing around the desk in surprise.

“What’s going on…Oh,” she stops in surprise, straightening up as she sees Lindsey’s face. “Isn’t that the evil lawyer with the a-maz-ing voice?”

Angel scowls but Cordy doesn’t pay him any attention, looking instead to Wesley for explanation. Turning away from her, he continues carrying Lindsey to a bed.

“Yes, it is,” he hears Wesley respond to Cordy.

Angel can feel Cordy following close behind him. “Wait,” she starts again. “First you lock him in a cellar with that evil vampire bitch and the crazy one, then you throw him out of LA, and now you’re bringing him home?”

Angel stops momentarily as he thinks over that strange summary of events. There was so much more to it. “It’s not like that,” he says before he continues, pushing opens the door to his rooms with a foot and carrying Lindsey through to the bedroom.

“You’re putting him in your room?!” Cordy asks, her voice even higher with surprise. “Well, I guess you don’t want bloodstains on the rest of the place…”

Now really annoyed, Angel dumps Lindsey on the unmade bed and turns to Cordy who is right behind him. Unfortunately his words of defense die in his throat, because it does occur to him then that Lindsey is going to get his sheets dirty. For some reason though, he never thought about putting Lindsey someplace else. He realizes he’s treating Lindsey like a chick, like he would a female victim whom he thought of as helpless.

“He’s not staying,” Angel says, but one look at her closed face makes him wish he could take those words back.

“Well, good,” Cordy says, crossing her arms. “Because I’m not sharing any of our payments with him.”

“We never get paid,” Wesley points out dryly.

“He’s got money stashed away, anyway,” Angel says.

With a sudden smile, Cordy drops her crossed arms. “Maybe he can stay,” she says, sounding more innocent than Angel buys.

Angel rolls his eyes, but when he focuses again Cordy is leaning down, stroking one long-nailed finger down Lindsey’s arm that’s escaped from the coat.

“Where’d you find him?” she asks Wesley, studiously ignoring Angel again. “He’s covered in dirt,” she adds, wrinkling her nose a little.

“It’s not all dirt,” Angel says before he reaches down his own hand to trail his fingertips lightly over soft skin again. “It’s bruises.”

Cordy gasps, jerking her hand back toward her chest like she’d been hurting Lindsey. Wesley moves closer to the bed to see past her.

Cordy has put their medical kit from the front desk on the bed now, but Angel is shocked to realize that Cordy’s fingers are opening the coat that covers Lindsey.

“Cordelia,” he snaps, surprising her into stopping her movements. “He’s naked,” he says.

Cordy looks like a new toy had just been taken away. “So,” she says.

Angel chokes a little, trying to figure out what to say, sucking in an unnecessary breath. But Cordy looks at his reaction and laughs.

“Whatever,” she says. “Try not to go all evil on him again.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Angel says firmly even as she’s getting up. Angel specifically does not say him, does not say that he will take care of Lindsey.

Wesley lingers by the door for a moment, long enough to say, “Tell me when he wakes up. We need to know whatever he knows.”

With the audience gone, Angel sets about examining Lindsey. He peels the coat off slowly, but it seems he needn’t have bothered with gentleness because Lindsey slumbers on.

In a bout of protectiveness, Angel smooths back the chestnut-colored hair from Lindsey’s pale, dirty forehead. Wesley was right, Lindsey does look a lot younger asleep, without his fancy clothes and ever-present sneer. It’s a lot easier to see that Lindsey is actually very attractive when he’s not awake to piss Angel off.

Angel’s palms look huge on Lindsey’s torso as he checks the human’s ribs more thoroughly. But they still don’t feel broken. But there is a slash across Lindsey’s ribs on the right side that he cleans with alcohol. Infection seems to be the only real threat right now.

Carefully, Angel turns the smaller body over, Lindsey’s limbs simply flopping on the mattress, his pretty face smushed into the pillow.  
There’s a deeper wound high on Lindsey’s back, shaped like Lindsey had accidentally fallen on a sharp rock. It’s crusted over with dirt and blood, but Angel’s cleaning efforts have blood flowing freely again.

It smells like raspberries and chocolate, rich and tart and complex. Angel’s always tempted, always, but he’s had so much time to conquer his desires. And he’s smelled plenty of Lindsey’s blood before.

He wonders why Lindsey came back here, wonders whether he really is doing the right thing in saving Lindsey. But no matter why Lindsey came back to LA it seems that he doesn’t have to worry about Wolfram & Hart employing the man again.

Angel covers that wound with a clean bandage and then covers Lindsey with the sheet and blanket. Impatient, he stands up and goes to the dresser, picking out a pair of boxer shorts, sweatpants with a drawstring waist, and a tshirt for Lindsey to wear. He should probably actually go ask Wesley to bring over some smaller clothes for Lindsey, but for some reason he doesn’t.

He stays in the room, waiting for Lindsey to wake up. He paces, and sits on the dresser and then sits on the bed and then he goes out onto the balcony for awhile, until the sun threatens. But still Lindsey won’t wake.

Finally, he decides to leave the room, closing the door after him as he heads off to microwave a mug of blood. But he’s gone no more than a couple of feet when he can hear Lindsey waking, thrashing in the bed, and hoarse desperate sounds…

Angel jerks open the door to see Lindsey’s wide blue eyes staring back at him from the bed. Lindsey looks terrified.

For a moment, Angel simply stares at the man from the doorway, unsure what to do, afraid to move and scare the terrified man even more. But then all of a sudden, Lindsey’s whole body droops in relief, realizing that Angel is not whatever monster Lindsey was expecting.

But with that relief, Lindsey apparently remembers that he hates Angel. Blue eyes shutter the soul within and start scanning the unfamiliar room even as his hands are clenching the sheet tight at his waist as if to protect his modesty.

Blue eyes are glaring when they meet Angel’s brown ones again, but Lindsey never was scared of Angel, not even in that cellar when Angel was scared of himself.

“Of course,” Lindsey mutters, as if talking only to himself despite that Angel is standing right there. “They brought me back here.”

“You didn’t come back to LA?” Angel asks, the question immediate as if it’s suddenly very important that Lindsey hadn’t come back just to piss him off more.

Lindsey scowls now, pretty plum lips pursing together and a line appearing in Lindsey’s forehead. “Why would I come back to his hellhole?”

Still scowling, his usual expression when anywhere near Angel, Lindsey attempts to scoot back towards the headboard. The pain of the movement wipes the expression off of Lindsey’s face, leaving him looking young and vulnerable again. Angel’s fingers itch to help him, to at least give him a pillow. But even though he’ll keep Lindsey safe, as he would any other victim, Angel isn’t going to make the ex-lawyer more  
comfortable.

Finally, Lindsey is leaning back against the headboard. He’s still breathing heavily when he starts talking again, “I was in Nashville…walking to my car one night and then,” Lindsey stops to breathe. “And then I was in that stone cell,” Lindsey explains.

“You were in Nashville?” Angels asks in a mildly horrified tone. “I thought you were from Oklahoma?”

“And why would I go back there?” Lindsey says, his voice getting louder and more frustrated with Angel’s off-topic questions. “None o’that explains what I’m doin’ in yer hotel?”

Angel grins at how Lindsey’s accent gets worse when he’s throwing a fit. “My bed,” Angel says automatically. “You’re in my bed.”

Lindsey appears totally shocked for a second, like he can’t believe that Angel is still being flippant right now. Angel is expecting a huge outburst in response, but then Lindsey’s pretty face simply settles into an ugly sneer.

“I figur’d only pretty helpless women get this sorta treatment,” Lindsey taunts with facetiously raised eyebrows.

“You are helpless and pretty,” Angel snipes back.

But Angel doesn’t miss the way Lindsey’s eyes widen at the glib response. But he has no idea what emotion was behind that reaction.

“Wolfram &Hart aren’t going to just let you escape from that cave,” Angel finally explains.

“I didn’t think you cared,” Lindsey responds dryly.

“You left, Lindsey,” Angel says simply, not wanting to explain his actions at all to Lindsey.

Distracting himself and Lindsey from that topic, Angel immediately turns away towards the dresser, getting the clothes he had taken out earlier. He drops them beside Lindsey on the bed.

“I guess your clothes are still in Nashville,” he says with a smirk. “You can have a shower and then we’ll go talk to Wes.”

“You’re still playing nice with the team again,” Lindsey sneers, knowing just where to press to provoke Angel’s violence. “Well, thank god I’m not depending on your problem-solving skills to save me.”

But again as soon as Lindsey is attempting to swing his legs off the bed, he’s biting his already red lower lip to cut off a pained groan.

Angel feels a little satisfaction now at seeing Lindsey in pain, like all the times Angel took out his anger and frustrations out on the man. Lindsey somehow manages to bring out all those things Angel dislikes about himself, all the violence that Angel convinces himself and others is gone while he has his soul. But now, after begging Cordy and Wes for his own forgiveness, Angel feels a backlash of shame, and he takes a step out of the way, averting his eyes.

Not that Lindsey would ever ask for help even now as he struggles to his feet, both of them ignoring any sounds Lindsey can’t suppress.

And somehow Lindsey still manages to look indignant as he makes his way to the bathroom, as if daring Angel to say anything, even though Lindsey is stark naked. Angel can’t help his eyes flicking up as Lindsey passes by, staring at Lindsey’s pert backside as he goes into the bathroom, leaving the door open a sliver to let the steam out.

Again Angel means to leave, means to grab that mug of blood that he’d practically forgotten about. But he doesn’t. He stays, listening for Lindsey to need his help.

***

The cry of Lindsey falling in the shower never comes, but it seems a long time until Lindsey comes out. And when he finally does, he’s clutching at the doorframe like he’s not going to make it any further. In fact, Lindsey tumbles towards the bed, half-way collapsing on it before Angel thinks to grab for him.

Pulling Lindsey off the bed by his arm, Angel has to tuck Lindsey into his side to keep the man standing. Lindsey’s panting, clutching Angel’s button-down shirt like his head is spinning and Angel is the only thing not moving.

Angel can’t help the way it makes him feel, Lindsey’s hot, tight body against his own, humid breath moistening his shirt over his chest, the desperate way Lindsey clings to him. He never even imagined Lindsey needing his help, never imagined being the person to look after an injured Lindsey and he’s surprised at how protective he feels…and how turned on he is.

But he stamps out any compassionate thoughts. Roughly, he moves them both through the bedroom door and into the sitting area where he drops Lindsey into his favorite armchair.

Angel figures he’ll give the human a minute to regain his strength, but even as he opens his mouth to tell Lindsey this, the outer door opens.

Wesley pauses in the doorway, a book clutched in his other hand, his face turning down in a dismayed expression before he’s even made it into the room.

“I thought I made it clear that I wanted to talk to him as soon as he woke,” Wesley grumbles at Angel as he walks inside.

Affronted, Angel doesn’t even get to defend himself before Wesley has turned to Lindsey, ignoring him.

“Lindsey, I’m sorry for the circumstances of our meeting again. I have a few questions to ask you about the demon that kidnapped you…?” Wesley says, opening the book and flipping to the right page.

Angel frowns, confused about what other circumstances Wesley thought he would ever meet Lindsey again, when Cordelia comes through his open door. She’s carrying a bottle of water and a plate with a sandwich and looking far too interested.

Cordy moves right in front of Wesley to give the food to Lindsey. And she’s smiling, that big pageant girl smile as she starts to talk. “Lindsey, about that time we saw you singing…”

But Angel has had enough. He steps forward and grabs the plate out before Lindsey’s hand touches it. “He’s not our guest, guys,” he says, exasperated.

The words have barely left his mouth when Cordy is stealing back the plate. “Then what is he? Our prisoner? And even prisoners generally get food and water,” she finishes with her own air of constant exasperation.

She gives the sandwich back to Lindsey who smirks up at Angel but doesn’t open that pretty mouth to say anything. It’s amazing how only seconds ago Angel was feeling protective of Lindsey and now he just wants to strangle the guy again.

Wesley redirects their attention again when he moves to grab Angel’s desk chair, pulling it across the carpet in front of where Lindsey’s sitting. He gives Cordy a pointed look and she rolls her eyes in return but moves out of his way. It pains Angel to see that familiar interaction between them and know that he’s now outside of it.

Sitting, Wesley opens the book and holds it out for Lindsey to see. But Lindsey barely gets to look before Cordy blurts out, “It looks like the Cookie Monster, from Sesame Street.”

Angel stares at her blankly, but then he notices that no one else seems confused. In fact, Lindsey and Wesley are now both looking at the book’s illustration of the demon with considering expressions on their faces. He hates how out of the loop he feels when they make pop culture references…

“So it does,” Wesley murmurs. “Anyway, we have a problem, because this particular demon doesn’t torture its victims. It’s rather more of a ‘kill first, eat later’ kind of demon really.”

“That demon never touched me,” Lindsey finally speaks, his voice gruff as if he’d rather be doing pretty much anything than talking about this. “I think he was just guarding the entrance, saw him momentarily when I was brought there…” Lindsey trails off, his brow furrowed as if he’s trying to remember.

“There was another demon?” Wesley queries, shooting a look up at Angel as if the vampire were purposefully hiding things from him. “Another demon that brought you from where?”

Lindsey takes a big breath and puts aside the sandwich on the arm of the chair. “I was in Nashville, left the office late…”

“The office?” Angel jumps in. “Does Wolfram & Hart have an office there?”

Lindsey shoots him a withering look. “No. Just a regular ol’ law firm office, an office that I own by the way…I was walking to my car late at night, and then something grabbed me. I never saw it, everything just seemed to whizz by me and then we were at that building and going past the Cookie Monster demon and…” Lindsey trails off shrugging. “That’s all I know.”

“Interesting. It can move through space apparently,” Wesley says, already flipping through the book on his lap.

“And it just left you there? In that cave cell?” Angel questions, wondering how Lindsey got covered in bruises.

Lindsey’s head whips up and his blue eyes are icy as he looks back at Angel. “No,” he admits, seemingly defiant. But then he seems to become less certain. “There was pain, but…I don’t know. I can’t remember where exactly. And there was screaming from the other cells, loud enough to be heard through stone walls. But I still never saw what it was, and it never took the time to explain why.”

There was silence for a minute, and Angel didn’t want to be the one to break it. As much as sometimes he delighted in Lindsey’s pain, excusing it as some kind of retribution for Lindsey’s own sins, this is different. The confusion and isolation somehow makes it seem different, makes it difficult to look at Lindsey for a minute.

“But we assume that your old law firm is behind it. Who else would bring you all the way from Nashville?” Wesley continues musing.

“Yeah, I’d bet it’s them tha’s behin’it,” Lindsey says, his accent thickening.

Lindsey takes a giant bite out of his sandwich then, as if defying them. But if he were expecting them to chastise him for his former involvement with the mentioned law firm, they don’t. Cordy looks mildly uncomfortable, but Wesley seems to only be concerned with figuring out which demon might have taken Lindsey.

“You know, I think…yes, I think that it might be in a different book…” Wesley mutters, mostly to himself before standing up.

But Angel’s watching Lindsey who seems to have forgotten about the half a sandwich as he rubs the knuckles of his free hand into his eye, looking much the same as a sleepy child.

“Wesley, I’m tired,” Cordelia interjects, yawning big and fake behind her hand. “Let’s start tomorrow morning.”

Angel’s lips twitch, wanting to smile at Cordelia’s antics, but he’s unsure about the fact that she’s being nice to Lindsey of all people. He knows that they rescued Lindsey, or rather that he rescued Lindsey but that doesn’t mean that they have to be so…nice.

“Oh, right, right,” Wesley says, taking off his glasses momentarily and then peering down at Lindsey himself. “Yes, he should, we should get some sleep. Start with fresh eyes in the morning,” he finishes cheerily. “You should stay here at the hotel, with Angel, in case the demon shows up.”

“Are there any other rooms?” Lindsey asks, posing the question to Wesley instead of Angel.

Wesley’s got his mouth open to respond when Angel jumps in. “’Fraid not,” he says, impersonating Wesley’s cheer.

“No,” Wesley says, shooting a chastising glance in Angel’s direction.

“The other rooms are pretty much destroyed,” Cordelia puts in her two cents.

“There’s never really been any reason to fix them,” continues Wesley, looking a little miffed at being continuously cut off by the other two. “And it’ll be safer if you stay close.”

Lindsey keeps his blue eyes on the sandwich as he slowly nods and says, “Got any extra pillows for the couch then?”

“No, you can stay in Angel’s bed,” Cordelia says immediately. “Angel.”

Angel stays silent long enough for Cordelia to turn to him with a pronounced glare and for some reason Cordy’s glare is effective unlike Lindsey’s.

“Fine, he can sleep on the bed. I’ll take the couch, though I’m twice as tall as he is,” Angel mutters as he goes into the bedroom to pull out an extra pillow and comforter.

“He’s injured,” Cordelia tries to whisper after him pointedly. But when she turns back to Lindsey she’s smiling. “I guess we’ll see you in the morning.”

She still seems a little awkward. Angel can understand, they’re not really used to being there with the victim in the aftermath, much less that it’s Lindsey. They don’t really know what to do for a victim besides feed and house him.

“Yes, I’ll bring you some smaller clothes in the morning as well,” Wesley says as he follows Cordy to the door.

But Lindsey struggles out of his seat, like he’s a fucking southern gentleman standing for a lady. “Thanks,” Lindsey says and it even sounds sincere, “For everything.”

Angel sneers in derision, but Cordy actually looks a little flustered, hands smoothing her hair behind her ears like she does when she’s flirting. Wesley nods professionally before closing the door on them.

Lindsey turns to him then, “I really can take the couch,” he says, all the warmth leached out of his eyes and voice.

“No, she’ll find out and I’ll never hear the end of it,” Angel says dismissively. “And you are injured,” he admits grudgingly.

But Angel doesn’t help as Lindsey nods and makes his slow way back across to the bedroom. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?” Lindsey asks as he hangs onto the doorframe.

***

Unsurprisingly, Angel finds himself awake most of the night. Eventually he has to get up, has to widen the crack the tiny bit that the bedroom door was left open so he can look at the man sleeping in his bed. Lindsey’s face is bathed in moonlight as he lies on his back. He lost no time in moving aside Angel’s blackout shades apparently, making himself at home.

Angel wants to treat this like any other case, but he knows he’s failing. Before, before Darla, Lindsey was just an enemy, just an evil lawyer who stood between Angel and saving people. After Darla, he hated Lindsey…but he really didn’t. He hated Darla and he hated himself, and then Lindsey got in the middle of it. Lindsey’s own love for Darla, whether real or not, angered Angel. It made him question whether he had ever loved Darla and made him want to prove his love now as if it could make up for the past.

In the end, he manages a few hours of sleep and is awake microwaving a mug of blood, about to go out to the office when Lindsey stumbles out of the bedroom. He looks stiff but much more awake and aware than he had last night.

“Mornin’,” Lindsey says, his voice low and gruff, like its recovering as much as his body.

Angel raises his mug in greeting, but it’s awkward, for both of them he can tell. They’ve been occasionally unwilling allies, but never have they had to spend this much time together. And unlike that last fateful car ride where Angel lectured Lindsey on his life choices, choices that were obviously weighing heavily on Lindsey, now there’s nothing really left to lecture on. It’s too late for shoulda, coulda, woulda, and that’s something that Angel knows only too well.

But that was his epiphany, Angel couldn’t make up for his past, could only focus on doing the right thing now. And he had to give Lindsey that same chance or his epiphany wouldn’t mean a whole lot.

Still Angel grimaces in his coffee mug as he takes another gulp. He wants to hurry up and go find the rest of the team, being alone with Lindsey is only messing with his head. Somehow Lindsey always had a way of stealing Angel’s attention, making Angel respond to him with banter, with violence, with flirting.

“C’mon,” Angel says shortly, “Everybody’s here.”

It’s amazing how fast Lindsey’s face goes from open and sleepy to shuttered and angry as soon as Angel opens his mouth. “Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Lindsey snarks and then heads immediately for the outer door.

Rolling his eyes, Angel goes ahead and passes Lindsey in the hallway. Lindsey’s moving slowly, almost limping on muscles that must’ve stiffened up overnight. He doesn’t look back to see Lindsey’s expression.

When he gets to the office, he sees Wesley’s already sitting at what used to be Angel’s desk, and Cordy is standing beside the coffee machine. Seeing Angel, she immediately looks past him, undoubtedly looking for Lindsey.

“What’d you do? Kill him in his sleep?” she quips, but then her face warms as she catches sight of Lindsey rounding the corner. “Coffee?” she offers him, suddenly cheerful.

Angel scowls and moves to lean back against the front desk with his arms crossed.

“That’d be wonderful,” Lindsey says, even though his attempt at a smile is more of a grimace as he reaches out to take the mug she hands him. “Make me feel more human,” Lindsey comments, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his face goes suddenly blank like he’s realizing how that might sound with Angel there.

But Lindsey doesn’t apologize and Angel was already scowling. Cordy simply acts like nothing happened.

“Wesley picked up take-out,” she says, handing over a Styrofoam box.

Now it’s Lindsey who finally looks flustered. “Oh, I…I can get out some money if I can get to the bank…I should probably cancel my cards, I’ve no idea where my wallet is,” Lindsey rambles, obviously uncomfortable taking this last hospitality from them, of being monetarily indebted to them.

As much as Angel wants to gloat over having the upper hand on Lindsey in any circumstance, it does feel kinda weird to have Lindsey indebted to them in a way unrelated to saving the man’s life. And he knows how Lindsey feels about money.

“Well, you can always use our phone,” Cordy says a little too enthusiastically, probably excited at the prospect that Lindsey will feel at least grateful enough to buy them a few meals.

But Lindsey hasn’t taken a step toward the phone when Wesley pokes his head out of his office. “Ah, you’re awake,” Wesley says, sounding rather cheerful himself.

At this point, Angel is feeling a little fed up. Did they forget that Lindsey was once the enemy? They’re treating him like he’s a long lost friend or something. Angel feels himself scowling as he watches. He’d love to be able to go do something else as a distraction, but he  
doesn’t really have a lot to do in the research phase of the case. He can’t even go out and look for clues in the daytime.

So Angel just watches surreptitiously as Lindsey limps into Wesley’s office carrying the food and the mug. Wesley solicitously pulls up another chair to desk and starts talking immediately, distracting Lindsey from eating the food. Lindsey should really focus on eating something first, Angel thinks.

Angel shakes his head at his own thoughts and stamps out that protective sentiment. Lindsey certainly seems capable of helping himself and if Wesley cares so much about Lindsey and his damn demon knowledge then Wesley can take care of Lindsey.

“Oh, well, I’m sure that our little collection is nothing compared to the books that you had access to at Wolfram & Hart,” Wesley flatters.

“This is a really great collection,” Lindsey flatters right back. “It really does cover most of the demon species…” Lindsey trails off as his attention seems to be on a book on the other side of the desk.

“Really? You think so?” Wesley stutters, flustered at the praise. “They may not be in mint condition, but I like to think…”

Angel tunes out Wesley’s voice as he watches Lindsey stand and bend over the table to grab the book. Somehow Angel can’t seem to keep his eyes from watching Lindsey’s ass, up in the air only a few feet away. He can remember so many times that Lindsey pissed him off so much that he just wanted to bend Lindsey over a desk and…

“Ahh,” Lindsey gasps in pain, curling back into himself, the hand that he was reaching with now clutching his ribcage.

“Oh,” Wesley makes a noise of surprise as he stands up himself. “Sit down. You need to rest. I’ll get it.”

Wesley grabs the book and places it practically underneath Lindsey’s nose as he’s still curled over in pain. “I know how difficult it is not to be able to do the things you normally could,” Wesley continues sagely. “I was recently shot, you know.”

Angel turns away from them, not wanting to feel guilty again listening to Wesley recount the tale. Not knowing what to do with himself, he goes over to Cordy’s desk, looking over her shoulder at the computer.

“What’re you doing?” he asks after a second of not being able to figure it out himself.

She gives him an annoyed glance before answering, “I’m looking at missing persons here and in Nashville to try and find out if anyone else connected to Wolfram and Hart has gone missing lately.”

Angel nods even though she’s looking at the computer screen and not at him.

“Course, if they took Lindsey from Nashville, they could have taken the other guy from anywhere, I guess,” Cordy says, seemingly already frustrated with the search.

“Can you look up what kind of cases Lindsey was taking in Nashville?” Angel asks, his curiosity about what sort of life Lindsey McDonald had created for himself bubbling up.

Cordy looks up at him with the same glare she was giving the computer a moment ago. “I’m kinda busy,” she says in a fake sweet voice. “In fact, can you not like, hover over me?”

“Fine,” Angel says, putting his hands up palms out in the universal gesture of surrender.

With nothing really else to do, Angel turns on the tv and watches the news for a while. If anyone asks he’ll say he’s looking for clues, for missing persons or high profile trials or something. And he starts to sketch the demon and the other captives in that prison.

His only consolation is that the research doesn’t seem to be yielding a lot of anything despite having Lindsey to help them. They just all continue looking without anyone jumping up and exclaiming that they’ve found the demon they’re looking for or anything like that.

Wesley eventually remembers the clothes that he was to give Lindsey, a pair of slacks and a couple of button-down shirts. And Lindsey makes his calls to the bank and that makes Cordy at least happy for a while and she goes out to pick up dinner for them all. They’re all finishing their dinner when Gunn arrives, after dark.

Angel gets up immediately, glad to see Gunn because Gunn’s a man of action, not research. Maybe Gunn’s even found something else to fight tonight since they’re no closer to figuring out the demon that got away.

Gunn stops at the counter, leaning casually on his elbows, so Angel takes up the same position beside him.

“He still here?” Gunn asks, jerking his chin towards Lindsey who’s still in the office with Wesley.

“Yup,” Angel replies, glad to finally have someone else on his side.

“But no progress on figuring out where the big bad is?” Gunn continues.

“Nope,” Angel says.

“So we goin’ huntin’ tonight? We might’ve found some regular vamps that need killin’?” Gunn asks.

Angel’s got his mouth open to respond in the affirmative when Cordy speaks up, getting up from her desk to come over to them.

“Wesley and I are going to go home soon, to get some rest so we can work tomorrow,” she says pointedly.

And Angel can hear all kinds of unsaid things in those two sentences. Angel can hear, “You’re not doing any work,” as loudly as he can hear, “You’re supposed to stay here with Lindsey while we get some sleep.”

He scowls in response and slumps a little bit further onto the countertop. He doesn’t want to stay in and babysit.

“I guess I’m not coming tonight,” he mutters at Gunn.

Gunn chats with Cordy a little but he doesn’t stay long. And his leaving seems to be the cue for everyone to pack it up. Angel can tell that Wesley is frustrated by the lack of progress by the many reassurances that he gives Lindsey as he leaves. Whereas Cordy simply says a soft, “we’ll find it”, before she goes.

Then it’s just the two of them again.

“I’m gonna turn in,” Lindsey says quietly, a quiet that seems to be born of exhaustion.

Not having what else to do, Angel says, “Yeah, good idea.”

But just like the night before Angel can’t sleep. Lindsey certainly isn’t in the mood for talking even if Angel wanted to. Lindsey’s too busy trying not to show his weaknesses to Angel despite that they both know there’s no comparison between them. Lindsey disappears into the bedroom almost immediately. Angel can hear him taking another long shower through the crack in the door.

But Angel can’t quit thinking about Gunn’s offer to hunt tonight. He can’t imagine that Wolfram & Hart would try to take Lindsey under Angel’s own roof even if Angel isn’t actually there. And a small part of his mind whispers that it might be easier to find the demon again if Lindsey was taken.

He only feels a little guilty as he puts his shoes back on. He really does believe that Lindsey will be safe in the hotel, and there are other people out there to save who don’t have time for him to wait until they find this elusive demon. There’s only a niggling doubt that he wouldn’t act this way if the victim were anyone other than Lindsey.

***

Angel is a lot more cheerful the next morning as he sips on his mug of blood waiting for Lindsey to wake up. But it seems the ex-lawyer has gotten used to not having to be at work early in the morning as the human sleeps in a little longer. Eventually, though, Angel hears the sound of the creaking mattress.

It takes longer for Lindsey to get dressed this morning and when he comes out of the bedroom, Angel is surprised at the human’s appearance. Lindsey looks worse.

Lindsey’s eyes are bloodshot and there are dark bags underneath them. He’s practically hunched in on himself as he moves stiffly forward, keeping one hand on his ribs like he’s holding them in place. But Angel knows that he checked Lindsey’s ribs twice. Unless Lindsey fell off the bed last night, they should only be bruised.

“Didn’t sleep well?” Angel asks.

Lindsey makes a growling noise, like Angel’s very presence bothers him. Angel can’t explain why the noise always entertains him. Lindsey’s so small, so human, that his anger is almost cute. It makes Angel want to slam him against the nearest wall and show him how dominant a souled vampire can be.

“You went out patrolling last night?” Lindsey asks in that same rough voice.

Angel is startled for a moment. “How did you…?” but then he realizes that Lindsey must have had a restless night, woke up at some point and noticed Angel missing.

“Let’s go,” Lindsey growls, cutting off the conversation. He’s already moving toward the outer door, apparently eager to escape Angel’s company.

The banter just isn’t there now that Lindsey’s the victim, Angel thinks wistfully.

The three of them go back to researching and this time even Angel picks up a book to skim through. But everyone can tell that Lindsey is feeling worse. Cordy keeps telling Lindsey to take a break, to take a nap back in Angel’s bed.

But Lindsey always refuses, saying he wants to figure out this demon as soon as possible so he can get out of here. He shoots the occasional glare at Angel, but after being subjected to the looks of barely concealed disappointment on Cordy and Wesley’s faces, Lindsey gives in to some of their fussing.

Except it doesn’t stop Lindsey from trying to throw away most of his food despite Cordy’s admonition that he had to eat it all. It’s a good thing that Angel is there to stop him.

“You’re telling on me now,” Lindsey hisses. “What are you, five?”

Angel giggles a little giddily before managing to say, “You’re the one scared of her.”

“Like you’re not,” Lindsey hisses before taking another grudging bite of his sandwich under Cordy’s watchful gaze.

But Angel’s not laughing anymore. Lindsey’s words have hit a little too close to home. He is scared of Cordelia, and Wesley, scared of what they think of him. They took him back, even after he fired them, even after what he did, to Lindsey and the other lawyers, to Darla and Dru.  
But things aren’t the same. And that scares him a lot. That he’ll never regain their trust, their affection.

He hates that about Lindsey. The human shouldn’t be a threat, he was just a cog in the huge machine of that evil law firm. But somehow…Lindsey is astute enough, or lucky enough to know just where the chinks in his armor are.

Still, Angel feels a little satisfaction watching Lindsey glare ineffectually at him while eating. Even though even Cordy can’t make Lindsey eat very much.

Angel is starting to really hate this, being shut up in here doing research, stuck in here with the victim no less. Despite that the bruises are covered by clothes, Angel hates watching Lindsey’s grimaces as evidence of his ordeal, hates that he’s unable to give any measure of relief or revenge.

He’s starting to really hate feeling sympathy for Lindsey.

But then like an alarm, Cordy cries out, clutching her head. They all know that she’s having a vision, even Lindsey despite that he’s never actually seen it before. Fortunately, she’s already sitting down as they all hover around her, Wesley holding a pen and a notebook.

By the time she’s finished relating the location and the big ugly, Angel’s practically giddy with excitement. Last night, he only found a couple of new vampires, but this demon sounds like something he can really sink his teeth into. Not literally.

“Great,” Angel says, trying not to sound too enthused about someone fearing for their life with a demon attacking them. “Let’s get going then.”

He heads straight for the weapons cabinet, and he can hear Wesley muttering about how to kill this particular demon, the sound of pages being flipped through quickly. Gunn’s beside him, grabbing a couple of extras from their stash in addition to the crossbow that’s his favorite.

But when Angel straightens up, ready to go with ax in hand to decapitate this thing just like Wesley told him, then he notices Lindsey moving toward them, still stiff and slow.

“I’m coming,” Lindsey says, firmly.

“No, you’re not,” Angel responds back immediately.

Wesley glances at him, obviously annoyed by Angel seemingly taking charge again. Reluctantly, Angel grits his teeth and lets Wesley speak.

“I’m sorry, Lindsey, but it’s far too dangerous with your injuries,” he says in a much nicer tone than Angel.

“I’ll wait in the car,” Lindsey steels his jaw, still wanting to do whatever he wants.

Well that’s not how this team works, Angel thinks. Or at least it doesn’t work like that now.

“You’ll be a sitting duck for anything wanting to take you,” Angel blurts out angrily. “Just for once, listen to us!”

“I don’t want to stay here alone,” Lindsey says, looking as if that sentence cost him dearly.

Angel looks down at the floor for a minute, the ax held loosely at his side. He doesn’t know what to do with a scared Lindsey McDonald, but he doesn’t have time for this.

“I’ll stay,” Cordelia’s voice shocks Angel into looking up.

She’s standing beside Lindsey on the other side of the front desk, her weapon lying there discarded.

“You don’t need me for this one,” she says, speaking to Wesley. “And I could use a break,” she winces just a little, letting everyone know that her head still hurts some from the vision.

Angel feels a little taken aback that she’d choose to stay with Lindsey, but he brushes it away telling himself that it has nothing to do with Lindsey and everything to do with Cordelia needing a little recovery time.

***

It’s the middle of the night by the time that Angel makes it back to the hotel and he’s grungy. Wesley had immediately gone home, and as he enters the office area, he doesn’t see or hear Cordy or Lindsey.

Worried, he starts back toward the hotel rooms when he finally hears noises coming from his own room. Pushing open the door, he’s horrified by what he sees.

He can see Cordy and Lindsey, the back of their heads at least, bent toward each other. They’re sitting on his old couch, pushed close to his almost-never used tv. Lindsey’s mouth is moving like he’s talking but Angel can’t hear him over the sound of the tv and Cordy’s loud laughter.

Moving closer, he can see that they’re sharing a blanket, tucked on top of them and a bowl of popcorn, though half the popcorn is scattered on the blanket.

Angel sucks in a sharp breath. He feels betrayed. Cordelia doesn’t want to be friends with him anymore and here she is having a slumber party with Lindsey. Did she forget what things that Lindsey has done?

Placing his hands on the back of the couch, he delights in their surprise at his sudden appearance. “I see you two are having a great time while the rest of us have been risking our necks,” he says grumpily.

He’s expecting some kind of embarrassment from Cordy and he watches in fascination as Cordy’s dark eyes glare at him. He doesn’t think he’d ever really seen her mad at him like this before. She’d only been cold to him up til now.

“You were the one who wouldn’t let me go,” Lindsey defends himself hotly, causing Angel to focus on him again.

“You’re not part of this team!” Angel shouts at him. “We’re just getting this demon off your tail just like any other case.”

“Angel,” Cordy interrupts their fight before they can really get going. “I want to talk to you. Now.”

As she leads the way out into the hallway, Angel doesn’t know whether it’s a good thing that she wants to talk to him or a bad thing. She stops him from closing the door all the way.

“What is your problem?” She hisses at him, obviously not shouting in deference to Lindsey.

“Wh…” Angel starts, lifting his arm to gesture at Lindsey still sitting on his couch, watching his tv, eating his popcorn!

“I really don’t get it,” she hisses. “You took in Faith! Defended her after what she did to Wesley! And you can’t give Lindsey a break?  
You’d rather push us all away than just forget about Lindsey’s past,” she accuses.

“No, well…I…Faith was different,” he defends, flustered. He’s not the one putting Lindsey before the team!

“How?” Cordelia says, her voice finally getting louder. “At least Lindsey didn’t torture one of the team.”

“Because…” Angel starts, only to pause again. “Faith was hurt, she was just striking out in anger and pain.”

But even as he says it, it feels wrong. Lindsey’s angry, Lindsey was…hurt, he supposes, as a child. But whereas Faith struck out immediately in a fiery rush, Lindsey was cold and methodical. He planned and waited, and he could have turned back at any point.

“Faith couldn’t help what she was,” he finally says. He responded to that in her. That she didn’t choose to be a slayer, to be taken from her family and thrust into an isolated life of danger. She hurt people, but she didn’t mean it.

“Lindsey didn’t ask to watch his siblings die either,” Cordelia whispers, more calm now. “He’s just a human and his tragedy happens far too often to humans.”

“You’re right,” Angel tries again. “He could have handled it differently, not everyone who grows up poor becomes a pawn for a firm of demons.”

“He could have,” she admits. “And Faith could have too. Buffy didn’t turn out like her.”

Cordelia winces, knowing that she shouldn’t have invoked Buffy’s name, and not right after Faith’s. And besides, they both know Buffy had an entirely different experience than Faith.

“And he could have chosen to let those kids die, to walk away from that body parts lab, too,” she continues after the pause. “Just talk to him,” she says, “Without yelling.”

Then she’s heading back inside, probably telling Lindsey good night because she’s passing him in the hallway again a second later.

Reluctantly, Angel approaches the couch. Lindsey has flipped it to the news now, the fluttering fluorescent light making him look even more pale and sick than earlier.

But Angel’s attention is moved back to the tv when they show a girl having been found dead. He recognizes the girl, he saved that girl.

Shocked, Angel moves around the couch and sits next to Lindsey, his eyes still on the tv.

“You saved her,” Lindsey starts, his eyes still on the tv. “About a month before I left LA.”

“How do y…?” Angel trails off in his question. Of course, Wolfram & Hart, and thus Lindsey, were keeping tabs on him.

“Too bad you couldn’t save her from all the other demons out there,” Lindsey expounds, his blue eyes shining in the tv’s light. “You didn’t save her from the streets, or her addiction, or her pimp, or her hunger and her fear…or her past,” Lindsey finishes.

Angel looks over at Lindsey’s profile, poised to start yelling when Cordelia’s words from just a moment before come back to him. He tries to keep his voice as cold and calm as Lindsey’s own.

“What would you do? Nothing? Just leave them to be killed by a demon?” Angel sneers.

“You left that girl to be killed by her demons,” Lindsey says, but for once it doesn’t sound like an accusation. “Her demons just weren’t big and fanged, they were small and white and came with a needle.”

Lindsey looks over then, his eyes slitted as he does glare at Angel now.

“Just because you grew up poor, doesn’t excuse everything you did,” Angel says, jaw clenched tight.

“No,” Lindsey agrees, and then he looks away, back to the tv screen.

Angel’s a little thrown by Lindsey’s acceptance of his own actions. Faith raged and cried and tried to deny it. Angel himself, once upon a time, did the same.

“That girl gave up,” Lindsey starts again, surprising Angel. “She believed that nothing was ever going to get better, that the world was full of demons and she was gonna lose sooner or later.”

Lindsey looks down at his hands then, and Angel had the feeling that this was not the speech that he had cut off Lindsey from trying to give that day in the old office. They had both changed since then.

“When I was a kid, I didn’t believe in heroes. I didn’t see any of the good in people when Sissy…when my siblings needed it. You start believing that’s the only way things are. And when Wolfram & Hart first showed me real demons, I believed that there was no way to stand against them. How was I to know that there was a vampire with a soul out there?” Lindsey says the last part quietly, questioningly.

Angel doesn’t have an answer for that, but neither can he just let go, just completely change his opinion. “But you went back,” he accuses. “You liked it, the money and the power after a lifetime of being powerless.”

“Of course, I did,” Lindsey says, his voice loud for the first time. “You weren’t exactly offering an alternative. You just swoop in, kill the demon, and don’t stick around to clean up the mess. You weren’t going to protect me if they came after me.”

Lindsey’s stops, breathing hard like that little outburst had really exhausted the last of his strength. Angel practically forgot that Lindsey’s injured.

It seems clear that Lindsey doesn’t’ really want to talk about when he went back to that evil law firm. There are plenty of things that Lindsey could ask now that Angel doesn’t want to talk about. But then again, Angel doesn’t think the answers really matter. He already knew that Lindsey wanted power and money, and he knew too that Lindsey was scared to go, scared to be without power and money. And maybe it is understandable. And maybe he deserves a second chance no matter what.

Angel thinks back to what he told Lindsey when they first rescued him, ‘you left’. That was really all that needed to be said. This was just old animosities brought up because what Angel’s really worried about is the team, Cordy and Wes and Gunn accepting him again. He’s worried about whether he’ll get a second chance, whether or not he deserves one.

They just sit for a second, side by side in Angel’s room for the first time. But even as Lindsey catches his breath, Angel can see out of the corner of his eye that Lindsey is slumping down now.

“You need to be in bed,” Angel says quietly.

And this time Angel helps without being asked. Getting an arm underneath Lindsey’s and around his back, he pulls the man up and they walk together into the bedroom. And he leaves the bedroom door open a little, even though Angel doesn’t understand why.

But Angel can’t sleep that night either. There are too many things to think about and too little going on during the day to tire him. It’s too late to go out hunting, and anyway, he does feel a little guilty now, leaving Lindsey alone like that. So he sneaks out into the courtyard, closing the door to his hotel room softly behind him.

Lindsey has always managed to twist him up, twist everything around until he didn’t know which way was up. Lindsey was just a human but he had this beauty, this confidence, this intelligence. He acted as if he were an equal to Angel, a vampire. It was entertaining in the beginning, they bickered and annoyed one another. When Lindsey came to him for help, giving him that sob story, Angel hadn’t been able to see any of the real pain in that prepared history. That was when things changed between them.

Angel didn’t regret what he did to Lindsey, even cutting off his hand. Then again, he didn’t think that Lindsey regretted anything he had done to Angel either.

And both times that they had worked together, it had been smooth. No matter what else happened, Lindsey had never let him down on a mission, even inside Wolfram and Hart.

When the sun comes up, he wanders the hotel and then returns to his rooms, his mind at least a little quieter. They still need to find something on the demon after former Wolfram & Hart employees.

But Lindsey sleeps late again that morning. Angel makes himself a mug of blood and sits there in his armchair waiting. He thinks about going to the office without Lindsey but for some reason, he wants to be here when Lindsey wakes, show that they’re on the same team, at least for now. Besides, Cordy and Wesley probably want to see Lindsey more than Angel right now anyhow.

After an extra hour though, he peeks in the bedroom to see Lindsey tangled in his blankets and the sweats Angel had lent him. He’s curled in the fetal position on his side, his hands practically over his head as if shielding himself, and he’s trembling or shivering.

“Lindsey?” Angel asks, concerned as he enters further into the room.

But the human doesn’t seem to hear him until he’s right next to the bed. Even then Lindsey only opens one bleary, bloodshot eye to look at him. He looks terrible, like he got run over by a truck.

Angel’s mind stutters on that thought, thinking of the time Lindsey did run him over with a truck, a really old truck. Now, he can look back and think that Lindsey at least had flair. Course then Angel had beaten him with that baseball bat and broken his hand…actually Lindsey looks worse now than he had then.

“Lindsey,” Angel says again, bending down.

His mind races with possibilities, suddenly wondering if there was some kind of poison. They didn’t actually check what the human in the cell had died from. They just assumed it to be neglect.

“I…fine,” Lindsey grunts as he tries to lift his head from the pillow.

He’s pushing himself up with his shaking arms and Angel instinctively reaches out to grab his shoulder, intending to help Lindsey sit up. But as soon as his hand makes contact, Lindsey hisses and pushes away, falling back down on his back.

Confused, Angel leans over Lindsey, his hands hovering above the man’s body unsure where to land. The bruises shouldn’t be more sensitive than before. In fact, he grabbed Lindsey’s shoulder to help him to bed last night.

He still doesn’t know what to do as Lindsey pushes himself up the headboard to slouch there.

“What hurts?” Angel asks. “What’s wrong?”

“You w’re gone…las’ night,” Lindsey starts.

“No, I didn’t,” Angel defends. “I was…”

“There’s somethin’…I’s here,” Lindsey rambles, slurring so that Angel can barely understand.

“What’s here?” Angel asks, his voice rising in annoyance.

But just as Lindsey’s about to speak again, the outer door bursts open.

“Angel, we need you,” Wesley shouts, appearing in the bedroom door a second later. “We have to go. The Snorvak demon that Cordelia had the vision of the other day…well, it appears that there was more than one. I should have known that they normally traveled in a harem-like family…” Wesley trails off.

Angel stands up from the bed but when he glances down at Lindsey, he’s surprised to see real fear in his eyes again, just like that first night when Lindsey woke up in Angel’s bed.

“Don’…lemme come,” Lindsey insists, pushing the covers off of his legs.

“You have to rest,” Angel says unhappily.

“Lindsey.”

Angel turns to see that it’s Cordelia in the room now, holding a crossbow of her own and passing him another Styrofoam box and a bottle of  
water. “We all have to go Lindsey. I’m sorry, but you’ll be safer here.”

Her eyes are full of regret as she hurries out of the room behind Wesley. Angel is the only one to look back, putting the food and water on the bedside table even as Lindsey struggles out of bed. It feels like a punishment when Angel closes the outer door to his hotel room.

***

Angel hates going through the sewers, no matter how many times he does it. Cordelia and Wesley drive and meet him there, not looking even a little apologetic about it, saying that they’ll go in the front to make sure the demons don’t get away.

It’s dark when they get back. They’re tired, and Cordy and Wesley head straight for cold bottled water out of the minifridge in the reception area. Angel simply falls into a chair and debates getting up again to heat some blood. Fortunately, he didn’t lose a lot of his own blood  
this time.

Gunn stays for awhile, rehashing his finer moments with Wesley and Cordelia, each trying to impress upon the others how exceptional they were.  
Angel only adds, “Well, it was me who got the head.”

He’s promptly ignored, and he understands even if it sucks. Because he’s a vampire, his skill is often taken for granted. He takes it for granted himself so he supposes he can’t complain much.

It’s not until Gunn leaves that Cordelia suggests that they take some water to Lindsey.

“Should ask him what he wants to eat too,” Cordelia says. But it’s clear that she’s not getting up, she expects Angel to.

She looks at him pointedly until he gets up, grabbing a bottle of water from the minifridge to take.

But as soon as he opens the outer door, he can hear an odd sound, an oddly quiet whimpering and moaning. For a split-second, he glances toward the tv before he hurries to the bedroom door.

Closer, it sounds like Lindsey is doing more than whimpering, it’s a hoarse cry of pain, but muffled somehow. Jerking open the door, Angel expects to see the demon they’ve been chasing in there, he expects to see some kinda demon period, or at least a lawyer in a suit.

But there’s no one. It takes a minute for Angel to even find Lindsey. The man stopped making noise as soon as the door opened.

Lindsey’s in a corner beside the desk, curled up in the small space as if he’s trying to hide, to protect himself. His eyes are closed, but there’s still terror written on his face, and he makes no move to show that he heard Angel enter.

“Lindsey,” Angel says softly, trying not to alarm the man further.

Lindsey’s face is pale, lined with pain and his arms are both wrapped around his stomach again. He looks like he’s desperately trying to breathe but there’s this noise when he breathes, a faint grating sound.

Lindsey coughs and finally looks up into Angel’s face. “Isshere,” he slurs. “It’s here,” he tries again, this time grabbing Angel’s forearm.

The movement seems to cause him even more pain and the side of Lindsey’s head thunks against one wall. It looks like Lindsey’s done this quite a few times, there’s a bright red mark on the skin there, just above Lindsey’s temple.

Angel shushes him, tries to be calming as he reaches out to Lindsey’s arm still wrapped around his middle.

“Lindsey, is it your ribs?” Angel asks.

He carefully removes the other arm and presses down on Lindsey’s visible ribs. Unsurprisingly, Lindsey cries out sharply in pain.

“Your ribs are cracked,” Angel says. “But I don’t think they’re in danger of moving. We need to get you in bed.”

Carefully, Angel lifts up Lindsey and pivots to place him back on the bed. He wonders if Lindsey fell out as soon as they had left.

“How’d you hurt your ribs?” Angel asks as he moves the pillows to help Lindsey sit up and breathe easier.

“Desk,” Lindsey says cryptically, gesturing with one flailing arm. “Tryin’ to get ‘way.”

Angel’s eyes narrow in anger. Lindsey did this to himself, bumping against things instead of staying in bed. What is this? Some kinda cry for attention?

Swiping a hand over his own tired eyes, Angel asks more harshly, “Did you do it on purpose or were you just that pissed that we left you here? Is this how you planned to make Cordelia like you?”

Lindsey looks stunned, but then his eyes narrow. “Fuck you,” he hisses. “Some protect’r y’ are. There’s somethin’ aft’r me!”

“I don’t even know if there is anymore,” Angel says, standing up and putting both hands on his head momentarily.

“Of course,” Lindsey says, his voice suddenly resigned, without any of the usual fire. His eyes look as dead as they did the night Angel locked him in that wine cellar, the only light a look of superiority, like Angel had just proved him right again.

“Of course, you wouldn’t believe me,” Lindsey starts again, seeming to practically be talking to himself. His speech clearer now, less panicked. “Of course, because I’m the bad guy and you’re the good guy no matter how many more lives that you’ve ruined than me. You get to  
decide who’s right and who’s wrong, and who lives and who dies. Why would you give me a second chance? Why would you help me when no one else ever has?”

He meets Angel’s dark eyes with a sneer.

“I’m getting Cordelia,” Angel says, but he doesn’t move from the doorway, just watching Lindsey.

“Great. Get out of here so it can kill me already,” Lindsey says, and then he’s falling off the side of the pillows, lying on his side, half-curled in a ball. “And you don’t prop up a person with broken ribs, you asshole.”

Still Angel stays, staring at Lindsey’s small, still form on the bed, his bed. He’s suddenly unsure of what he thinks. His first inclination is to not believe Lindsey, but haven’t they moved past that? Didn’t he say he’d give Lindsey a second chance? He doesn’t even know why he’s so prone to believe the worst of the man…

And then it hits him. Lindsey looks defeated. He’s given up like he said of the woman on the tv. He’s given up on Angel, given up the belief that there are people out there who actually care, who help each other, no matter the cost. Angel wants to prove Lindsey wrong. He wants to be the person that Lindsey can actually believe in. But it means that Angel has to believe in Lindsey.

He steps out of the bedroom but doesn’t close the door. There’s a telephone over in the kitchenette. He remembers he thought it was stupid to go through the trouble of getting a new phone to put there, but now it’s a lucky thing.

“Wesley,” Angel says into the phone.

“Angel, where are you?” Wesley asks, sounding confused. “Did you go out for some food? Without passing through the front?”

“It’s Lindsey. He’s getting worse. Tell me, Wes. Are there any invisible demons?” Angel asks, feeling stupid at the question.

“Why yes, there are,” Wesley answers immediately.

Angel is shocked as he listens to Wesley picking up a book.

“Are there any that we wouldn’t know were there? Even if it was in the room with us?” Angel persists.

Wesley’s silent on the other end, and Angel assumes it’s because Wesley can’t think of any. He’s wrong, Lindsey is lying.

“Ye-es, there is one,” Wesley starts again, “but it’s supposed to be extinct…”

“How do we know it’s there? How do we kill it?” Angel asks, trying to pre-empt any of Wesley’s rambling on interesting extinct demon species.

“Well there’s a spell…” Wesley says.

Angel growls. “Find it and get over here,” he says before hanging up.

He’s watching Lindsey, seemingly passed out now, from the doorway when Wesley and Cordy hurry in behind him. But he doesn’t look away from Lindsey as he speaks.

“How do we do it?” Angel says, his voice weary.

“Well, we need to close the door…” Wesley starts.

“No,” Angel starts, “he doesn’t like to be alone.”

Wesley’s face falls and his next words are sympathetic, “We have to close the door. The demon will have to become corporeal to attack him and this spell will force him to stay corporeal. It’s the only way, Angel.”

Angel hates that Wesley’s being gentle with him. He’s not going to be the one attacked as soon as they close this door.

“As soon as I finish the incantation, you’ll need to stab it through with this,” Wesley holds up a stick. “Birchwood,” Wesley says, answering his unasked question. “You need to stick it to the wall or the bed, trap it with the stick and hold it there while we pour this mixture on  
it,” Wesley finishes holding up a vial.

“It’s vinegar,” Cordelia says.

Angel nods in understanding. He wishes that he could warn Lindsey, but he supposes that wouldn’t make this any easier.

As soon as the door snicks shut, Angel can hear those distinct sounds that he didn’t understand until now. Lindsey whimpering, moaning, desperately, quietly. He keeps his hand on the door knob, hearing Wesley’s droning voice beside him. The mattress is creaking…

“Now!” Wesley shouts.

Angel wastes no time shoving open the door, and finally, finally, there is something in the room with Lindsey.

It’s a black noxious cloud over Lindsey’s flailing body, seeping into Lindsey’s open mouth. No wonder the noises are so soft, Angel thinks.  
And then he sees why Lindsey is so bruised. Lindsey’s writhing hard despite his broken ribs, trying to get away, his muscles rigid as he rolls nearer to the edge of the bed.

Angel holds the stick aloft and thrusts it into the black cloud. He’d been expecting it to be easy, for there to be no mass to the vaporous demon, but the stick gets stuck. He has to lean his weight against the stick to thrust it through to the other side, the stick finally slamming into the wall.

And he’s not prepared for the way the cloud demon tries to get away. Struggling to hold on, he looks down at the bed. The black gas is still inside Lindsey’s mouth, but now Lindsey’s eyes are wide open. For a second their eyes meet, shock and determination in both of them.

Then Lindsey writhes again as the demon tries to push against the stick. Lindsey’s arm hits the headboard with a loud thunk.

Cordy and Wes are on the other side of the bed, shouting nonsense words and trying to pour that vial on top of the thrashing demon.

And then it stops. Suddenly, Angel is simply holding a stick embedded in the wall and Cordy and Wesley are panting and Lindsey…  
Lindsey’s very still on the bed, his eyes closed again.

“Lindsey,” Angel breathes on, sinking down to sit on the bed.

Lindsey finally looks over, his breath short and his face lined with pain, but his eyes are bright, and hopeful. “How…Wha’ happ’ned?”

“It’s gone,” Angel says, but he then looks up at Wesley to confirm it.

“Yes, that should have gotten rid of it,” Wesley confirms. “Of course, since it was thought to be extinct…”

Wesley keeps going but Lindsey’s eyes have turned back to Angel. “But how?” he asks again.

The question is a challenge, Angel knows. Lindsey wants him to say it, wants him to explain. But for once, Angel wants to give in.

“You said there was something in here. So we just had to find it,” Angel says, the hint of a superior smile on his face.

Angel imagines that he sees an answering hint of amusement in Lindsey’s clear crystal blue eyes.

“How’s your arm?” Cordelia interjects.

Lindsey flexes it a little with a wince, but answers, “Think it’s just bruised.”

“Do you want anything to eat?” Cordelia asks, hopefully.

“No, I…”

But Angel cuts him off. “You really need to eat something.”

They stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, before Lindsey acquiesces. “Just a sandwich or something,” he murmurs.

Angel feels suddenly light, like his chest cavity cold and empty for so long, is suddenly warm. Sometimes he thought he and Lindsey could argue about whether the sky was red or not. Neither of them ever wanted the other to win. Now they’ve both surrendered a little in the space of only a few minutes.

They end up all eating sandwiches, all except Angel with his mug of blood. They all sit around Lindsey in Angel’s bedroom, Wesley at the desk, Angel standing beside the headboard, Cordy and Lindsey on the bed. Wesley even has an extra pain pill that he got Lindsey to take.

But then Cordelia and Wesley head home, and Lindsey rolls back onto his side and goes straight to sleep. And Angel stays where he is, watching. Lindsey doesn’t ask him to stay or ask him to go, doesn’t really acknowledge him at all.

It’s almost dawn and the blackout shades are in place when Lindsey wakes and rolls over to his back so he can see Angel. Angel doesn’t know what he’s doing just sitting there. He just knows that things have changed. That belief in Lindsey isn’t going to just disappear because the danger’s past. And there are all these other feelings now, concern and understanding, and…affection. Lindsey’s always been beautiful, but  
Angel’s known lots of beautiful people. But now things are different, even the way Lindsey looks at Angel.

Lindsey breaks the silence. “Get in,” he says sleepily, holding the blankets open.

Angel does as requested, still not knowing why. He starts to climb under the blankets fully clothed when Lindsey speaks up again.

“You can’t sleep like that,” Lindsey says, amused exasperation in his voice.

So Angel gets undressed, and it feels significant though Lindsey’s not even looking at him, Lindsey’s face turned away on the pillow. He slides under the covers on Lindsey’s good side wearing only his boxers.

He can’t say what made him do it, made him think it was a good idea to get undressed and get into bed with Lindsey McDonald. Maybe it’s just the knowledge that Lindsey was tortured every time he spent alone. Maybe he wanted Lindsey to sleep knowing that Angel was there, that Angel was protecting him.

And Lindsey does nothing but let out a deep breath and get more comfortable. But Angel can’t seem to just keep his mouth shut now that the silence has been broken.

“What kinda law firm did you open in Nashville?” he asks quietly, looking up at the ceiling awkwardly.

Lindsey chuckles a little, though it sounds kinda like wheezing. “If you think I started taking only pro bono cases or something like that, you’re mistaken.”

Angel smiles because no, he can’t quite see Lindsey doing that, and he looks over at Lindsey’s face.

“Criminal cases,” Lindsey answers. “I defended people who could afford me.”

“Were they guilty?” Angel asks, not sure what answer he expects, or wants.

Lindsey chuffs a laugh again. “In the real world, Angel, we don’t often have the luck to discover the murderer with his fangs in the victim’s neck. They say they’re not guilty, and the prosecutor has to prove that they are.”

Lindsey makes a motion with his shoulders that Angel thinks was meant to be a shrug. Angel’s satisfied with the answer. He forgets sometimes, what it’s really like to be a human. He wonders if Lindsey had forgotten, being with Wolfram & Hart so long.

He’s surprised when Lindsey slowly pushes up on his good elbow to look over at him, but he’s shocked when Lindsey suddenly leans over him and presses their lips softly together.

It’s instinct for Angel to push Lindsey back with a strong hand, push him away. Angel’s expecting Lindsey to be angry at the rejection, to be defensive, to have explanations and defenses, to pretend that the kiss was just a mistake. But Lindsey simply stares back at him, his eyes open and trusting, with Angel’s hand still on his tshirt clad chest.

Angel’s arm simply bends and they’re kissing again, this time their lips moving lightly across one another, not hesitantly, not gently, just slowly learning each other.

Lindsey makes a sharp aborted motion with one hand before he’s pulling away with a bitten-off groan of pain, falling onto the mattress on his back again. But Angel only spares a moment’s hesitation before following. A single glance in Lindsey’s eyes is enough to have Angel moving over the smaller man, kissing him again.

This time Angel licks over plump lips and Lindsey opens with a soft sound, letting Angel’s tongue flick over the inside of his mouth, learning, teasing. Pulling back again, Angel straddles Lindsey’s legs carefully as he pushes Lindsey’s borrowed shirt up to his armpits. With a hand behind Lindsey’s neck, Angel supports him to pull the shirt off.

Even in the dim light, Angel can clearly see the bruises all over the man, dark purples and ugly yellows and every shade in between. They were all hidden by his clothes so that no one saw that he was getting new bruises.

Angel is almost too afraid to touch Lindsey again, too afraid of hurting him. But Angel doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to stop now and rethink everything tomorrow logically. He wants this now.

Angel runs a cool hand gently down Lindsey’s chest, not knowing what else to do. But Lindsey’s hands gripping his thighs tightly is reassuring, like he’s not about to let the moment go.

“Help me take off my pants,” Lindsey says, groaning in pain as he tries to lift his hips to help. “Take off yours and come here.”

Angel doesn’t know when Lindsey ordering him around stopped pissing him off, but it was probably when it started involving removing clothes.  
He slides out of his shorts and as Lindsey struggles back onto his side. He thinks he understands when Lindsey struggles onto his side.

Angel slides back in behind Lindsey and immediately, Lindsey’s hand is back on his top thigh as if reminding Angel. Angel presses snugly up against Lindsey’s back, leaning over Lindsey’s body to get some lube from the nightstand.

Lindsey’s already shifting, pulling his top leg forward on the bed, opening his thighs. Angel moves away a fraction, already popping the cap on the lube as his eyes are immediately drawn to the round curves of Lindsey’s ass, the dark crease between. Tossing the bottle away, his free hand pulls the top cheek away, letting him see the tiny dark entrance. For a moment, he rubs the furled muscle with his lubed finger, feeling Lindsey relax into the sensation.

He slides his larger body up against Lindsey back at the same time that he presses his finger inside. Lindsey pulls away from the intrusion at first, but then he’s pressing back, moving his hips back into Angel’s hand, and trying to get more of their bodies in contact.

Angel slides his bottom hand under Lindsey’s neck, turning Lindsey’s face with a hand so that their lips meet again. He shifts, his dick slipping on Lindsey’s ass as he tries to get closer.

“Now…” Lindsey moans in between kisses. He’s breathing hard, but his voice is insistent. “Enh, now…”

Angel wipes the rest of the lube on his hand on his dick, his chest pressing against Lindsey’s warm back. Lindsey’s still pliant, from sleep, from the drugs, from pain, or maybe even just from Angel’s touch. But he likes it. It’s nothing like he would have thought, none of the rough and painful way they’ve been handling each other for years.

Lindsey pulls his top leg into the air with a hand, opening himself. But when Angel pushes inside Lindsey tenses, closing up with a shuttered breath.

Angel presses himself closer, shoulders to knees and presses his lips over and over again to Lindsey’s jawline. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers.

“I…I know,” Lindsey chokes out.

Lindsey takes a deeper breath then and relaxes some. Angel’s hips roll softly, pressing further, further in. His other hand comes over the top of Lindsey’s body, over the uninjured ribs and across Lindsey’s chest. He grips onto his own forearm underneath, caging Lindsey in, pulling them tightly together.

Then Lindsey grabs onto Angel’s arm with his own free hand, tilting his face to look back at Angel. They kiss again, and again, and again, and then Angel’s leaning his forehead on Lindsey’s cheek, his dick sliding in deeper, deeper.

Lindsey’s moaning now, sharp sounds with each thrust, totally opposite of how he sounded when that door closed, when that thing was hurting him. Angel knows he’s got the right spot by the way Lindsey’s no longer loose, but tenses every time he thrusts. His belly presses against Lindsey’s back, soft skin now damp with sweat, and his hips practically bounce when they smack into Lindsey’s pert ass.

Angel’s muffling his sounds with his mouth pressed to Lindsey’s shoulder, trying desperately not to bite, not even with his human teeth, not with Lindsey so injured. Then Lindsey takes his hand off Angel’s arm.

Looking over Lindsey’s shoulder, Angel sees him jerking his own dick, purple like so much of the rest of Lindsey’s body. The human’s moaning almost continually now, his hips moving faster, jerking as he pumps his fist, pulling his leg higher as if challenging Angel to get deeper.

Angel feels like they’re as close as two people can physically get. He can feels Lindsey breaking apart in his arms, sweat-slicked all over. Angel just holds him tighter as his hips snap harder, trying to get even closer.

He’s not scared when the tingling starts in his inner thighs, his lower belly, the way his muscles contract. It’s not a perfect moment, Lindsey’s too injured and Angel’s too worried, but more than that, they’re two imperfect people, and maybe things will never be perfect. Maybe perfect doesn’t even exist.

But this is pretty good, Angel thinks right before there’s white light behind his eyes and he loses control of his hips. Lindsey’s so tight, so hot, Angel bites down on Lindsey’s shoulder.

His hips swivel lazily for a few more minutes, sucking over the bite on Lindsey’s shoulder, thankful that it only barely broke the skin. He’s not sweating, he’s not breathing hard, he’s not breathing at all. He wonders if Lindsey’s noticed yet.

Then Lindsey drops his leg in exhaustion and groans at the way Angel’s dick shift inside him.

“Vampires don’t have some crazy refractory time, do they?” he mumbles a little, his cheek leaning against Angel’s arm.

Suddenly slightly self-conscious, Angel moves his hips away from the human, pulling out. “I think you need more rest,” he says.

“That’s a yes,” Lindsey says. Then he snorts.

Angel can’t help but laugh. It eases something tight in his chest to hear Lindsey speak of his vampire nature now. So he settles down back behind Lindsey, his arms still wrapped around the human like an octopus.

But then another thought intrudes. “Wolfram & Hart won’t stop chasing you,” he says quietly, the words blowing stirring chestnut brown hair.

“I know,” Lindsey says, seriously.

Angel can feel the way the human tenses, expecting as before to be thrown out, to be left unprotected, offered no other option by Angel. But Angel likes surprising Lindsey.

“Well, there’s always a rag tag group called Angel Investigations that could use a hand,” he whispers.

Lindsey’s silent for a long moment, still in Angel’s grip.

“You know they’re changing the name,” Lindsey says.

Angel sputters in exasperation. He can’t believe they’re still talking about that, but then Lindsey laughs only to immediately groan at the pain it causes. Angel will take that as a yes.


End file.
